Holla Atcha Toy
by SugoiByoshin
Summary: Mat and Tylin with an "urban" twist in a present world.PG13 - Language and Sexual Innuendo. COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer – I do not own Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time or any materials relating to the Novels. (Did I do that right?)

Mat strolls through the long hallways of the massive and affluent Dragon National Bank, this being the Caemyln Branch. Mat's main Homie-G, Rand, has branches all across the world, from Cairhien to Illian so Mat knows he can borrow a measly five thousand to stop Big Rahvin and his boys from breaking his legs. How the hell is he supposed to keep a plump serving girl on his lap if he has no lap?! Damn Rahvin, all Mat did was steal the Horn of Valere and besmirch his youngest daughter, big deal, shoulda kept the case closed.

Mat walks with the two most trusted members of his Red Arm crew, fat and gap-toothed Vanin and pretty boy Nalesean who almost has pimpin skills equal to Mat's, but he and his pointed beard are modest about it. The three men all wear matching gear, from their green bubble coats and black baggy denim jeans to their FUBU sneakers. Mat's the only with some bling however, a tricked out fox head medallion that he stole from a Hip-Hop club's DJ. Ever since going into that Hip Hop club about a month ago, Mat can't stop spewin this odd language, 'ebonics?'

"You can't come in here." Mat looks up from his ominous experience at the club to see a tan skinned woman standing in front of a large door which has 'Lord Dragon' gilded into the front. The woman is too old for Mat's taste and also too skinny, plump is where it's at and plus, her puckered scar makes her look more grizzled than Mike Tyson. Except the voice, hers is deeper.

"Rand's expectin' me, Sulin. I gotta holla at 'm for sum chedda. So back dat fine ass up and letta brutha through." Mat answers smugly, lickin his lips for emphasis. Sulin raises an eyebrow and looks from Mat to Vanin to Nalesean but finally nods reluctantly,

"Only you, Matrim Cauthon." Sulin answers, stepping away from the door and Mat smirks and bobs his head. If she calls him 'Matrim' one more time, he swears he'll make sure she calls him 'daddy.'

Mat tosses the door open smoothly and strolls into the massive room which has black walls covered in plaques and trophies and the floor is covered in expensive area rugs that all have some sort of dragon sewn into them. At the far end of the room is Rand, sitting behind his curved black desk, his fire red hair spiked like some anime character and behind him, the sunshine from the window makes him look omniscient. The Lord Dragon he calls himself.

"Sup, Randizzle." Mat bounces to the desk and holds out his closed fist but Rand only looks at it as if at a foreign object,

"You said what?" Mat's eyes widen at realizing what he did once more and clears his throat,

"How's it going, Rand?" He thrusts out his hand as is proper and the other man shakes it.

"What can I do for you, Mat?" Rand asks, shuffling the paper's on his desk.

"I need a favor. Eh, a loan favor. Rahvin's gonna bust my head open if I don't pay him." Mat explains and Rand nods his head in understanding, leaning back in his chair,

"I understand your plight, but if I help you, you gotta help me. Scratch the other's back." Rand suggests diplomatically and Mat nods his head,

"True, true. So what you—" The underneath of Rand's desk shakes with a loud thud and Mat cringes, thinking Rand hit his knee but the man is relaxed as ever.

Min's head pops out from under the desk and Mat jumps back startled, but Rand scowls with a frustrated sigh,

"Who told you to stop?" Min shrugs her shoulders and bites her lower lip innocently but then notices Mat and grins widely, her bubbly disposition evident from her batting of lashes, she's cute but Mat would never do her,

"Hiya, Mat! Rand, you didn't tell me we had company! You meanie!" She giggles cheerfully and Rand growls. Mat steps closer but then a thought occurs,

"Wait! Is your head okay?!" Mat asks and Rand pushes Min's head away from his chest, sending her stumbling out from under the obviously spacious desk,

"She's got nothing in there to damage anyways." Min giggles again as she straightens her tight fitting, pink sweat suit and Mat tilts his neck slightly to survey the curvaceous boot-ay.

"So what, she's your secretary?" Mat asks and Min giggles with a rigorous head shake, causing her boyishly short hair to bounce,

"No, silly! I'm his girlfriend!" Rand barks out mirthful laughter and slams his fist onto his desk,

"Isn't that cute? She thinks she's my girlfriend. Min, go sit in the corner like a good wench and continue your reading." Rand orders with a peremptory point of his finger and Min scurries away to the corner of the room. Mat would have to say she is engrossed in the book, 'Curious George Goes to the Brothel' but it's held upside down.

"So back to our arrangement." Rand says and Mat looks back and nods, "I'll give you all the money you need, but I'm gonna need you to go to Ebou Dar and keep Elayne company. She's workin at some store and she needs to stay down there so I can get the Caemyln branch steady before she comes and screws it to hell." Mat hesitates at the suggestion, he needs the money but Elayne is an uber-slut whose ignorance is only rivaled by her pig-headed arrogance. Yet another chick he would never do, maybe from behind…

"I would think you'd want her back," Mat begins, trying to weasel out, "It seemed like you had fun poundin the hell out of—"

"How do you know about that!" Rand yells and Mat shies back from the fury, "That was supposed to stay quiet! Oh god! There'll be a scandal within my corporation! I should have paid her off like Kobe does his underage girls…oh God! Please, this can't be…"

"Chill out, son, not that many peeps know." Mat assures and the panic slowly fades and Rand leans back in his chair, "I only know cuz Daved Hanlon lemme peep it. Somth'n about hidden cams, but he only shows the tape to his numba one G-Homies." Rand sighs and his smirk returns, the fury gone from his eyes, to Mat's relief.

"Tell him to get me a copy, I can study my playbook." Rand suggests calmly and Mat shrugs,

"I'll see what I can do. I'll keep Elayne busy but—" The door bursts open and Mat spins around to see Sulin rushing to the desk.

"Mr. al'Thor, Taim and Logain are at it again! Their having coin roll fights and poor Flinn has lost an eye!"

"Damn! Alright, it's Balefire time." Rand bounces over his desk angrily and Min stands up and begins stripping her shirt over her head. Mat's eyes widen in shock, not that she strips but that there's nothing there cept a flat plane and two pink dots. Rand shakes his head, "No, no, Min, I'm talking about the actual fire now." Min giggles and pulls her shirt back down and Mat looks at Rand confused,

"I thought you named Rand Jr. 'Callandor'?"

Hey, when I was writing I realized Daved Hanlon comes later but I like that guy so I tossed him in. Tell me what you think so far, Thanks.


	2. Not a Coin Roll

Disclaimer – I do not own Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time or any materials relating to the Novels.

Mat and crew gratefully leap from the rickety and smelly bus, landing on a cracked sidewalk in Ebou Dar. Mat tries to breathe in air to destroy the stale smell from the bus but he regrets it immediately. Raw sewage enters his nostrils and he covers his stomach nauseously, stumbling across the unleveled sidewalk of the dilapidated city.

"Burn my soul, Mat!" Nalesean gags angrily, "I should have stayed in bed!" Nalesean leans against the brick wall of a run down restaurant and Vanin simply spits. Mat smothers the want to puke and scowls at Nalesean,

"If I have to come, so the hell do you two. And what the hell is so fun about sleeping?"

"Uh, I dunno, maybe that fine babe of a…eh, what do you call the women that come from overseas?" Nalesean asks and Mat shrugs,

"Sea Folk?" Nalesean quickly nods his head and pushes away from the brick wall before the mutant sized cockroach can attack.

"That fine Sea Folk, Nestelle din Sakura South Star," Nalesean answers with a wide grin, "When she 'spits' you know what she's doing."

"Son, you wuldn't even be tappin' dat if it wazn't fo me!" Mat demands with a shaken fist and Nalesean laughs derisively,

"I can't help you didn't act on it, dumbass. What kind of self respecting man watches the Oxygen Channel to learn where the G-Spot is?"

"Hey! If I have to incorporate other peeps' experiences to become a betta lova, that's _my_ business!" Mat demands as they turn a corner and he stops frozen.

He almost gags at seeing the three grotesque hookers on the corner. All butch with mustaches and beards, two still with an apple and one only has one breast implant. What they're wearing isn't even enough to comment on and that makes it worse.

"Hey, honey," One grunts with an outstretched hand at Mat, "Wanna good time?" It barks out guttural laughter and Mat reaches into his coat for his gat. He stops only because Vanin grabs his arm,

"The fuzz." Mat looks towards Vanin's pointed fingers at two cops sat in a dilapidated squad car. Through the taped windows, the two pigs are having fun with 'ladies of the evening' but Mat doubts that they are 'ladies'. He then turns towards the three beasts on the corner,

"Next time, bitches, I'll finish your operations." Mat growls and the beasts chuckle deeply as the three men walk away.

"Burn my soul, Mat, this place sucks ass. The people, the sites, the smells!" Nalesean complains as the three reach a small shopping district and Mat spins,

"I don't really give a damn, Nalesean! You two boyz aint got a choice, I own ya like Em owns D12."

Mat answers with a victorious bob of the head and continues down the sidewalk. Vanin and Nalesean follow grudgingly but compliantly. Mat looks down at the rumpled piece of paper in his hand and then up at the name on a small store's peeling sign, 'Ebou Dari Petticoats and Such.' The best looking building all around, the brick isn't too cracked and there are no hobos chillin outside the door.

"What would that whore want out of this place?" Mat asks suspiciously and Vanin spits in disagreement,

"Ms. Elayne is a very nice young lady, Mat, and I'm sure she is simply helping out the less privileged." Mat turns to slap Vanin but lowers his hand and pulls open the glass door, ringing the annoying bell above.

The store smells like any other fabric store, that fabric-y and foamy smell but anything's better than outside. Stands and tables are scattered about the small store holding bolts of various colors and prints of fabric along with other supplies, scissors and whatever the hell else you need for sewing. Mat looks around but doesn't see Elayne anywhere, although he does see two women wearing red uniforms cutting a couple yards of 'Powderpuff Girl' fabric for a…a little boy.

"Maybe he's just checking out his options before middle school." Nalesean says casually as he leans against the wall. Mat could care less about the fag of a little boy, he's too busy scowling at the two women who have had _so _much plastic surgery, their ages are undeterminable. Their faces aren't exactly smooth, it's more of the fact that their skin has been pulled back to their ears, leaving their eye-sockets exposed. And no nose is that thin.

"Wut's up wit dis shiat, tricks puttin' this collagen in they lips to make em fulla?!" Mat growls angrily and offended, "Ya know how much shiat us black peeps get about our 'bubblegum' lips!?" Mat whirls around towards Nalesean who looks at him through confusion.

"What?"

"Back me up hur, ya know wut I'm spittin' bout!" Mat demands with a combative finger point, but Nalesean simply shakes his head,

"I have _no _idea what you're talking about." Mat's mouth widens and he huffs defiantly,

"Aint you Tairens Black?"

"Not that I know of…" Nalesean answers with a shrug and Mat slams his fist against the wall.

"I know whenever ya'll talked bout in da books, it's 'dark Tairens' what da hell else it mean?!"

"Dark compared to what, Mat? Dark compared to the clouds could be the sun. It's not specified." Nalesean explains and Mat growls angrily,

"They always screw us ova in da books!"

"But what about those who are called 'black as pitch'?" Vanin asks and Mat's eyes glow in fury,

"What the hell is 'black as fckin' pitch'?! So what, Two Rivers peeps is 'pale as ghosts'?! Same thing in LOTR! Only black peeps wuz da damn Trollocs!"

"You mean Orcs." Vanin corrects and Mat whirls around and yanks out his gat, aiming it at the fat bastard. Vanin quickly holds up his hands in defense and Mat shakes his head with a frown and lowers it.

"At least we had Calrissian in Star Wars." He says in defeat and Nalesean stands up and places his arm over the shoulder of his buddy,

"I don't think they really care, Mat."

"You're damn right we don't care!!" A woman's annoying squeal of a voice sounds from behind and Mat spins around to fire but he doesn't. Killing Elayne would anger Rand to no end and then he would never have his money.

The slut squad stands in the entrance of 'Ebou Dari Petticoats and Such' all skanked out in short skirts that barely cover the pelvis and tops that expose all midriff to the breasts and then massive amounts of plastic cleavage above. From right to left is: Aviendha, 'Since I couldn't keep pretending I hate you, let's sleep out in the freezing-ass cold where there's no way you could ever get it up' then Nynaeve, 'The first foreign man I see I fall in love with because my life has no meaning' and then everyone's personal favorite, Elayne, 'Everyone else had a go and I feel left out, shove a bun in my oven so I can complain even more.' Birgitte's there but of course she got roped into it all, even if her low rise yellow jeans expose a considerable amount of buttock cleavage.

Vanin immediately charges to Elayne's feet and begins licking her heels and Mat and Nalesean grudgingly walk over. Mat waves indifferently,

"I'm here for a jo—" His words are destroyed as Elayne's hand connects with his face, sending him backwards.

"Uh, you address me as like, 'Ma'am', Bitch!" She demands with another slap and Nalesean retreats backwards. Mat recovers and scowls upwards,

"You wanna get fired by assaulting a customer?!" He threatens and Elayne and the rest of the crew (except Birgitte) all burst into maniacal laughter.

"Uh, like, we're all assistant managers, so, uh, we can only fire ourselves." Elayne answers in her superior cockiness and Mat scowls,

"How the hell are you already assistant managers? You barely started working!"

"Egwene says we are, so we are!" Nynaeve demands and begins stroking her braid in erotic bliss, "She's _so _beautiful and perfect. I just love her!" Her strokes increase intensity and Mat looks away from the violation of the poor queue of hair.

"Who the hell cares what Egwene says? She has _no_ power!" Mat demands and Elayne growls and steps forwards, causing Vanin to scoot back away from the puddle of slobber,

"She's negotiating the most important record deal in history! She has like, lots of power!"

"Oh, I forget! White Tower Records, of course!" Mat growls in defiance, "The White _Towers _above all! Ova all us slum livin' po' folk, we need the _White _to tell us wut ta do! Cuz we _so_ ignant! I jus—" Mat's words are ripped away by another ear deafening slap of skin on skin and Mat bounds backwards.

"Uh, whatever!" Elayne arrogantly plants her hands on her hips and throws her chin into the air, "I don't even know why I'm like, even talkin ta you! You are _so _below me! So, like, go get me a diet water!" Elayne points at the vending machine at the back of the store and Mat growls and turns.

"Come on, Vanin!" Mat snaps his fingers and Vanin barks and rushes to his side and Nalesean turns and follows.

"Burn my soul, Mat, I should've—"

"Shut it! Just shut yo mouf!" Mat demands and Nalesean scoffs and continues in silence.

Mat dodges one of the wanna-be barbie dolls and just barely halts as the door to the back office swings open. Mat slams into Nalesean, knocking him backwards as a woman of about thirty walks out, pretty if not beautiful with long raven hair and large brown eyes. Cleavage city as well.

"Ah, what a cutie." The woman says deviously with a seducing stare and Mat clears his throat uncomfortably,

"Hi, Misses—"

"Miss." She corrects quickly, moving closer and Mat scoots back but is trapped by a solid stand of fabric. Nalesean moves away casually and Vanin's eyes are still on Elayne. Mat wipes sweat from his forehead and continues,

"I'm uh, here for a job, Miss…need help?" He stammers and the woman nods her head,

"Call me Tylin. And yes…I have the perfect job for you." She leans her head closer in her uncomfortable examination, "Yes, you will be perfect." She moves away from Mat's face and he sighs through relief but the next he knows, his left butt cheek is on fire.

Mat jumps away from Tylin's groping hand and she laughs sinisterly and winks before retiring back to the office. Mat looks from Vanin and back to Nalesean through shock but no one speaks. Mat finally recovers his dignity and smoothes his jacket,

"She won't…she won't do it again."

"Riiiiiiight." Nalesean laughs and Mat grunts and turns towards the vending machine.

"Vanin, give me that roll of quarters out of your pocket so I can get this slut a drink." Mat looks over but Vanin's eyes are glued to Elayne, ordering innocent people around, "Vanin!!"

"Oh, sorry!" Vanin laughs nervously and turns towards Mat, "What now?"

"Roll, now!" Mat demands and Vanin looks down and then back towards Mat,

"What roll?" Mat's eyes widen in fury,

"MOTHER FU--


	3. Luck is Luck

A/N: Mira, profuse appreciation for the positive feedback, brightened my day. ) To eh, this other guy, I understand if you don't like it but 'burning in hell' is a bit much, no?

Disclaimer – I do not own Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time or any materials relating to the Novels.

Mat yawns languidly as he pulls himself out of the uncomfortable bed in one of the many rundown motels in Ebou Dar. The brick walls are all chipped or cracked and the wooden floors squeak with the imminent promise of caving in. It was all he and Nalesean could afford without begging Elayne for money and Mat would rather bed a fat dude. For Vanin's disloyalty, he was banished to the laundry room but speaking of bedding…

Mat looks over at the yawning young woman that he spent the cold night with, a cutie with black hair and large innocent brown eyes. She seems a little young but she said she was eighteen and that's all Mat needs. She does seem a little boyishly slim and her te-te's _could _be a little bigger but after yesterday, Mat doesn't care.

"Hey." She says as Mat slides off the bed onto the cold floor, pulling up his black jeans. He looks over his shoulder and bobs his head,

"Sup, Leral. I gotta bounce early for work." Mat explains, looking out the glassless window at the morning sun. Leral giggles as she accompanies him out of bed in teddy bear footy pajamas,

"They gots breakfast in the lobby."

Mat would die for some food but in Ebou Dar, it's probably baked rat smothered in fungus. He'll just shanghai Elayne later for some grub.

"Nah, but thanks anyways." Mat reaches for the door of the small room and exits out into the hallway, but Leral quickly follows. Does she know nothing about one-night stands? Mat thinks of something to say as they walk towards the lobby but Leral speaks first.

"Most guys don't like to spend time with me this time of month." She says through confusion and Mat almost curses to himself and halts. Not exactly panic, he's had close calls before.

"Not 'girly time' is it?" He looks down at her with hope behind his eyes, but her stare remains blank,

"What?" Mat almost slaps her across the face,

"I'm not going to talk about it! You _know _what the hell I'm talking about." Leral simply shrugs and shakes her head,

"Whatever you're talking about, its no. It's cuz—"

"MATRIM!!!!" A beastly roar echoes from the lobby and Mat spins around, his throat going dry and his heart beating out of his chest. The door to the hallway bursts open and the proprietor bursts through, one of those female bodybuilders, huge biceps, furious faces because they'll never be kissed again and thighs that can kill with one squeeze. This one's had implants, though who she stole them from is a mystery.

"Hi, mommy." Leral giggles from behind and Mat twirls around and stares,

"Mo---mo---mommy?! Setalle…I mean Mrs. Anan is your mother?!" Mat talks loud enough so he can't hear the angry panting and huffing that emanates from the irate woman.

"Yea, that's what I said. This time each month she's in from fishing." Leral answers cheerfully and Mat wonders which unlucky shark lost a father this month. He slowly turns to face his future. Winning smile time.

"Hey, how are ya?" Mat asks with a wide grin but Setalle's scowl remains, perhaps even grows,

"What are you doing with my daughter!?" She demands, her hand clinching into a fist and Mat wipes sweat from his forehead,

"I think Leral is old enough to make her own deci—"

"Fourteen isn't old enough to choose her own clothes!" Setalle barks and Mat's eyes widen and his jaw disconnects from his cheeks. Fourteen...

"I uh---uh…we just--" Mat stammers nervously and Setalle encroaches, moving forwards, towering over the cowering Mat. His back reaches the wall and he fights off shivers as he snatches and claws in his mind for a story the testosterone ridden beast will digest.

"We---only---spoke of---eh, her future!" Mat chuckles nervously, "In uh, High School."

"Middle school." Leral giggles the correction and Mat looks over,

"Middle---_Middle School!?_ Fo Rizzle?! Holy shiat!" Mat hopes The Creator lets off one horrible mistake in life. He's done too much good to lose all of his points with a pointless bang. He stops thinking about heaven because he's still on earth in front of the beast,

"It will never, _NEVER _happen again!" Mat promises and Setalle cackles maniacally,

"Oh I know! Because this!" Setalle holds up her claw of a hand, "Is the castrator!" Mat grabs himself subconsciously and lowers down to the ground in a barrage of whimpers.

"No, please, no, please, I won't, I---I have money!" Mat finally spits out and the fury seems to subside slightly, only a hair but a little is more than none.

"How much?" Setalle asks as she holsters the castrator and Mat hurries to think to himself,

"I have but fifty on me now…but uh, in a week, maybe less, I can have you…uh, 2,000."

"5." Setalle demands and Mat thinks to deny her but Lil Matrim is his most prized possession,

"So simple---5,000." Mat chuckles nervously and Setalle grunts in approval. She then grabs Leral, tosses the young wom—girl over her shoulder and is off. Mat lets out a sigh of relief and utters a thanks to The Creator.

Mat wastes no time as he rounds up Nalesean from his full bed and Vanin from his banishment in the laundry room and hurriedly leaves the motel, wondering how that woman keeps customers. Vanin chomps down on some baked rat and Nalesean hums to himself tiredly. The motel is only a few blocks from 'Ebou Dari Petticoats and Such'

"I don't see why you're in such a rush, Mat," Nalesean says through a yawn, "You're just going to have to see Elayne and those other whores. We both had women at the motel." Mat forces himself away from his concealed weapon,

"We aren't going to speak of that." Nalesean shrugs indifferently and Vanin spits,

"Not to mention that Tylin." Mat nods his head angrily at that, although she wouldn't be too bad…

"As long as she keeps her hands to herself…until _I _say so." Mat nods his head victoriously.

"You'd do her?" Nalesean asks skeptically but Mat doesn't see why, as long as it aint fugly or have what he has, he'll do it.

"Tha shorty's gotta badunkadunk fo'sho."

"Huh?" Nalesean rubs at his ears and Mat clears his throat quickly,

"I uh, like the curvature of her buttocks."

"Oh. Yea, it's nice." Nalesean answers and Mat sighs at the quick recovery.

"Hey look!" Vanin yells with an excited point and Mat and Nalesean both spin to look into the street where two poor hobos are fighting over a rotting fish. Both with short knives and men and women are gathered around in an audience.

"Let's go watch! Knife fights are awesome!" Vanin demands and Nalesean shrugs,

"Eh, sure." Vanin charges over and Nalesean follows casually. Mat remains on the sidewalk in quandary.

"What is this, the 50's?! Oooh, I got a knife, lemme stab you cuz its soooo cool." Mat spits through disgust and continues walking, leaving the idiots to their games. At least a gun will kill you pretty quick, a knife wound will leave you alive long enough to bleed to death or you'll live and have to remember what a dumbass you were.

"Ratha' a gat, son?" Mat spins around towards the alley where a suspicious lookin' black man stands with his hand down his wide black coat. He wears a black ski cap and both his chest and teeth are tricked out in gold.

"What's this?" Mat asks in confusion and the black guy snickers maliciously,

"Da name's DJ Gholam, son, and you, is gitt'n jacked." He pulls his hand out and Mat groans as he sees the gun.


	4. Chik'n at the Last Supper?

A/N : Ersatz, much thanks for the review. Gholam has gotta be my one of favorite villains, along with Daved.

"Empty yo wallet, foo! You gotz two seconds." DJ Gholam spits angrily and Mat holds his hands up in defense,

"Why you gotta do me like dis, Homie."

"We aint 'homies', foo! Now empty dem pockits!" Gholam gestures his anger with his gun but Mat holds strong,

"Hell naw, we gotta enuf of dis hate between ourselves."

"Whatchu talk'n bout, you aint black!" Gholam demands offended and Mat scoffs and crosses his arms,

"Try me, dawg."

"Aight den, I'll ax you one question, biatch. Hit it right, I'll letchu off. Wrong and you is done, punk!"

"Spit." Mat challenges and Gholam smiles both crookedly and deviously with his golden teef,

"You best rec that Jesus waz black, but who da hell in bible timz wadn't black?!"

Mat raises an eyebrow in confusion, knowing damn well Jesus wasn't black but he'll go along for the sake of his small coinage. But then to the question, he has no idea who he's supposed to say. Perhaps Judas, since a black guy wouldn't betray another…unless one had somthin the other wanted…

"Well?!" DJ Gholam yells impatiently and Mat looks up and exhales deeply in fear. A million names pass through his mind but he chooses one,

"Noah."

"Noah?! What da hell you tripp'n on!?" DJ Gholam aims the gun and Mat holds up his hands and speaks immediately,

"Check yo-self before you wreck yo-self. You tell me if a black guy could survive some forty dayz with two chickens in a wooden box and not eat one of em!" DJ Gholam's face transforms from anger to fury, irate rage that rivals a Myddraal's stare,

"That is da most racist thang I ever done heard! But—" Gholam breaks out into snickers and lowers the gun, "We do love our chik'n tho. I'll let yo ass off."

Mat exhales through relief and Gholam holsters his gun and spits on the ground. He opens his mouth to say something but loud sirens are heard from behind the alley. DJ Gholam's eyes widen and he spins around as a cop yells out,

"He's over here! Get that pot smok'n bastad!"

"G'damn fuzz! Smellz like bacon in dis piece!" Gholam bursts away and Mat takes off beside him and realizes after ten steps that he aint black and doesn't have anything to worry about. He steps to the side as the tall cop passes him but Gholam is no where in sight at the bricked dead end.

"Where'd he go?!" The tall, older man asks and Mat shrugs his shoulders, looking down towards the entrance of the alley,

"Where's the other guys at? And the squad car?" The older man shakes his head and pulls out a tape recorder, playing back the sound of sirens,

"It's just me. Detective Noal, what are you doing here?" Mat shrugs again,

"You know, chill'n….I mean…uh…hanging out." Mat places on his most innocent and winning smile and Noal nods his head dismissively.

"You see him again, you tell me. If I catch Gholam, I'll get my badge back." Mat raises an eyebrow through curiosity of what the poor old man could have done to get his badge revoked,

"You touch the mayor's daughter or somthin?"

"Malpractice suit on a whiny kid. I didn't relocate his femur properly…" Noal holds up his hands and Mat isn't surprised, looking at the bent and gnarly looking twigs.

"Surprised you can reset a watch let alone a leg." Mat answers skeptically and Noal's eyes widen in shock.

"What time is it?!" Detective Noal looks at his watch and growls through his teeth, "I'm missin it!"

"What?"

"The Friends/Frasier marathon! Aint you gonna catch it?!" Mat scoffs derisively and waves his hand dismissively,

"I love how we aint rep'd in either of dem showz. Reminds me of a g'damn GAP commercial."

"Suit yourself. I'm out!" Noal spins around and takes off out of the alley and into the street. Mat throws his hands into his pockets and follows, just as Vanin and Nalesean show up.

"This morning has sucked ass long enough. Maybe some hot chicks will stop by the fabric store."

"Maybe." Nalesean shrugs casually and Mat sighs as he turns and they all continue towards 'Ebou Dari Petticoats and Such.'

Mat opens the door and forces his arm down from ripping the damn bell from above the door and crushing it within his fist. As soon as he takes one step into the store, Elyane swoops in, glaring furiously.

"What now?" Mat asks and Elayne smacks him across the face, sending him backwards. Nalesean escapes away from the barrage of slaps and glares and Vanin continues his heel lickings.

"I told you to address me as ma'am, bitch!" Elayne demands as Mat recovers and he bows deeply in mockery,

"A thousand apologies, Mistress!"

Elayne growls and rears back her hand for another strike but a voice from the back of the store halts her.

"Oh Matrim dear!" Everyone turns to seek the source of the sensual voice and Mat groans as he sees Tylin stepping out from her office, "Be a dear and come here would you?" She bats her eyelashes coquettishly and Mat looks from the glaring Elayne and back to Tylin and nods.

"Sho thang." Mat steps wide of Elayne and strolls back to Tylin's office, appreciative that his red cheek was saved but he wonders what she wants.

"How are you today, sweet chicken foot?" Tylin asks with a seductive smile and Mat raises an eyebrow,

"I've been better. Uh, you?" Tylin doesn't answer, simply snickers and motions towards her office.

Mat takes a deep breathe and steps through the small door, entering Tylin's sweet smelling, clean office which consists of a wooden desk at one end and a black and red love seat at the other. It seems normal enough but Mat knows she's up to something. What woman isn't?

"Would you be a dear and try this on?" Mat turns around at Tylin's beckon and his eyes widen at seeing the tight fitting leather pink shorts and long sleeved shirt she holds on a hanger. Mat clears his throat and thinks of a way out.

"That's not a woman's…uhhh, set?"

"Oh of course not. I need a man to model the male clothes for the store and you…are perfect." Tylin licks her lips and thrusts the clothes into Mat's arms.

He looks towards the open door and then at Tylin and grits his teeth,

"Could I have some privacy?" Tylin quickly nods and grabs the doorknob, pulling the door closed. Mat scratches his forehead,

"I meant…uhhh…" Tylin leans forwards inquisitively and Mat groans and turns around. He uncomfortably pulls off his jacket and shirt and tries not to think of Tylin's hungry eyes on his bare back. He can hear her breathing and the impatient tapping of her heel.

Mat pulls the pink long sleeved shirt over his head and inhales, sucking his chest and stomach tight and squeezes into the shirt. He struggles to breathe and turns around, knowing for damn sure the shorts aren't going to fit.

"How…is…this?" Mat asks through labored pants and Tylin's eyes widen in hunger and her lips curl.

"Wonderful!" Mat barely has time to react as Tylin leaps forwards and tackles him into the love seat.

He attempts to move his arms to push her away but the shirt restrains him as well as ropes would. Not being able to breathe doesn't help either. He struggles against Tylin's full lips pressing against his face and neck and her immoral hands groping "inappropriate" places.

"I'm going to eat you up, my little pool boy!" Tylin cackles as she reaches for Mat's zipper, but he's able to slide under her and away. She topples to the floor and Mat leaps for the door, for freedom and salvation.

"Where are you off to, my squeezable pudding pie?" Tylin asks seductively, unbuttoning her blouse and Mat shakes his head cringing, unable to speak, unable to breathe, and pushes the door open. He bolts through the store, dodging the two plastic employees and ducks under Elayne's flailing fist. He rolls across the floor and pushes open the front door. Mat stands up quickly and immediately collides with a mass, causing a feminine yelp.

"Ouch, you bastard!" Mat grinds his teeth as he recognizes Nynaeve's voice. He stands up from atop her, barely missing the flail of a braid she wields, almost as deadly as the poisonous glare she launches at him. Mat growls furiously, in no mood for this ho,

"Trick, you betta check yo-self! Call me a bastard one more again and you gonna—"

"Gambler!!!" A thunderous voice echoes from the east and Mat turns wide eyed in fear, every ounce of his being trembling.

"L…L…Lan…"

"What the hell do you think you're doing to _my Mashiara_?!?" Lan demands, unsheathing his ominous blade from his back.

"I…I…I'm…so…sorry." Mat stammers, "It'll…uh…ne…never happen again, Masa, I pomise, Masa." Lan growls and nods his head,

"Oh no it won't! Coz I'm gonna mince you fine, boy!"

"P…P…Please have mercy, boss." Mat drops to a knee as Lan approaches, both hands on his blade,

"It's over for you, Toby!"

"My name is…Mat Cauthon."

"Your name is Toby!"

Mat closes his eyes as the sword flashes and he feels the steel whisper against his chest and he can instantly breathe again. He slowly opens his eyes and looks down as the pink shirt falls to the ground in two pieces.

"Don't wear fagotty sht, boy, it angers me. Now get the hell out of here!" Lan sheathes his blade and Mat bows gratefully and bolts away from the fabric store.


	5. Thumb thick? Laughable

Disclaimer – I do not own Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time or any materials relating to the Novels.

Mat takes off away from the fabric store, down the cracked sidewalk at full speed. He knows there is only one man that can assist him in his time of "need." He dodges a hobo's slashing knife and his eyes widen as a nine year old boy on a bicycle bursts passed.

"Ah, bitch!" Mat growls as the rear wheel slams over his white FUBU sneaker. The kid breaks across the sidewalk, skidding down three feet before he stops. Mat inhales furiously and stomps towards the big eared kid.

"You called me what?" The boy jumps off the bike, kicking the kick-stand behind him and Mat stops at the fury in his eyes, "You got in Pips way and then you curse _me_!" Mat raises an eyebrow, wondering if the boy has a concealed weapon.

"Wait, 'Pips'? You named your bike! What a loser!" Mat grabs his middle in laughter and the boy begins quaking in anger. His two hands clinch into fists and the vein in his forehead begins protruding.

"Oh no, Olver baby, he's not worth it, daddy!" A woman's musical voice rings out and Mat hops away as a beautiful, ample bosomed woman rushes passed. She wears a tight black mini skirt, black heeled boots, and a red furry boa.

"Ah, Riselle, why are you off the corner?" Olver asks reproachfully and Riselle kneels down through a pout, massaging Olver's cheek with the back of her hand,

"I'm sorry, daddy, but I was lonely…" She whines and Mat's mouth widens,

"Wut da f'ck! Why da hell do you get dis fine honey! Yo weapon aint even loaded!" Olver looks over and Mat hops back from the fierce glare.

"You don't know shiat bout my weapon, son! And if I see yo ass around my hood again, it's over for ya!" Mat holds his hands up and nods through an apology.

Olver scoffs and hops back on his bike with Riselle behind him, flashing ample thong-age sitting over the rear wheel. Olver kicks the stand up and takes off,

"I'm Olver James, bitch!" The words ring in the air as the bike zooms away and Mat exhales exasperatedly, furious at the world for dealing him a bad hand. He reluctantly turns around and continues on his way.

Mat walks for half a mile before reaching his destination, a wooden log cabin of a so-called brothel that is run by a man who once bagged a Queen. Mat walks up to the single guard, a young man holding his long, slender staff of wood.

"Sup, Juliun." Mat nods upwards and Juliun nods back, stepping away from the door to allow entrance, "Where's your girl?"

"Who, Thera?" Juliun asks and Mat nods his head, "Rosebud mouth? Dark black hair? Always pouting? Yea, she's off masquerading as Liandrin."

Mat steps through the cabin door and a tight faced, silicon injected slut reaches out for him.

"Gah, back up, ho!" Mat dodges her fake nailed claw and rushes through the sparkling hallway which is lined with pictures of the proprietor's numerous adventures.

He finally reaches the door and knocks for permission,

"Sir, it's important!" Mat yells and he hears a loud cough and then the answer from a gruff voice,

"Enter, young one." Mat sighs that he'll be seen without an appointment and opens the door.

The master pimp, Thom lies on a harp shaped bed with his two honeys next to him, fine ass Dena and Moraine with a ball-gag in her mouth since she's alright when she's not talking. They each have one of Thom's long mustaches over their nakedness, but Mat knows not to look.

"What have you come for, young one?" Thom asks omnisciently and Mat bows down at the foot of the bed,

"Uncle Thom, I have a dilemma. I can't keep this older woman from touching me. But she's my boss so—"

"Your boss?" Thom interrupts and Mat nods, "She's fat and bald with bunions with their own time zones?" Mat shakes his head and Thom scratches his bald head, "She's not ugly?"

"Not really…but that's not the point, she's—"

"Not the point?" Thom asks through sardonic snickering and Mat looks back through confusion, "You have a hot, well experience mamita at your disposal, everyday you at work and you're complaining?"

"Well—"

"You soil the name of us Pimps, Mat!" Thom demands through disappointment and Mat winces, "Get out of my sight before you start working here as a Eunuch!"

"Gah, sorry!" Mat grabs himself subconsciously and bolts out of the room. He dodges another fake-ass whore and rolls out the door, panting and sweating, relieved that Thom didn't have his men give chase. Juliun looks down at him and shakes his head through pity.

"At least my wooden shaft isn't thumb thick, damnit!" Mat yells and sprints away from the 'establishment'. No way in hell is he going back to the store, so he figures he can pick up some comfort booty at the motel. As he reaches it though, Setalle Anan stands outside and holds her hands up to Mat.

"You're not still mad are ya, Mrs. Beautiful?" Mat grins his best grin and Setalle snickers,

"Whether I am or aint, you aint coming back in here. That store you work at, the manager paid me 400 bucks to kick you out. Easiest decision ever." Mat's mouth drops in astonishment, how Tylin could be so evil.

"Where the hell am I supposed to live now?" Mat thinks out loud and Setalle shrugs indifferently,

"Not my care or problem. She said you could live with her." Mat shakes his head fervently and steps away, just in case she's still angry. Ideas spin through his head but he comes up blank. Unless…

Mat knocks on the apartment door casually, trying not to seem desperate, and he puts on his best smile as the door opens, revealing the tantalizing long haired Aludra, dripping wet and wearing a short, pink bathrobe.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite girl." Mat smirks and leans against the wall next to the door and Aludra raises a suspicious eyebrow,

"Favorite is it? I doubt that. What do you want, Matrim?"

"Well I know the craving has set in so I decided to pop on over, ya know, to fulfill your—"

Aludra doubles over in uncontrollable laughter, leaving Mat wide mouthed and angry. He fumbles for words as she continues the discourteous display, but nothing seems to come out. He decides to enjoy her bent state while he can, but quickly pulls his eyes away as she straightens,

"Mat, you took me to see that damn Alone in the Dark movie, thinking it was a 'Sensual Thriller'. The worst day of my life, you gave me, what 'craving' are you talking about?" Mat sighs and shrugs his shoulders, trying to seem pathetic,

"Listen, I'm in a tough situation right now and I thought, old friends could uh…well, can I bunk here for a few days?" Mat prepares for the laughter but his guise seems to have worked, leaving Aludra biting her lower lip. Mat leans in further, ready to work up tears if necessary but she finally answers,

"Ya know, I would, but I need…uhhh, I'm waiting for a Bellfounder. Ya…he's gonna use my spare room…"

"Say wut!" Mat yells and Aludra hops back, "A bellfounder! Thaz da best you culd come up wit! Don be mak'n up wurdz juz cuz ya—"

"Damnit, Aludra, the water's getting cold and the bubbles are-" Mat looks over Aludra's shoulder for the source of the man's voice that interrupted him. Aludra swallows and steps out of the way to reveal the handsome Moridin, leaning against the wall baring all his sinewy glory.

"Woah." Mat says, almost considering asking to join in on the fun, but not for Aludra.

"Ah, didn't know we had company. Sup, Mat?" Moridin steps forwards and holds his closed fist out. Mat smirks and hits his fist into Moridin's,

"Well now I know why Aludra made that dumbass excuse. Wussup, Playa?"

"I aint a playa, I just crush a lot." Moridin wraps his arms around Aludra with a smug grin and she blushes.

"So where's your Lolita prize? Leave her at the park?" Mat asks through a good natured chuckle and Moridin snickers deviously,

"Nah, man, that lil whore thought she was still in charge so I kicked her ass back to Shayol Ghoul! Shaidar Haran's terrifying glare will give her nightmares as she spends the rest of eternity bouncing up and down on his lap."


	6. It was inevitable

A/N : Thanks for the review, Minodrin!

Disclaimer - I do not own Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time or any materials relating to the Novels.

Mat morosely slumps back into the fabric store, ignoring the bell chime above. He doesn't even attempt to dodge the slap by Elayne and she halts her hand before it connects. She glares at Mat contemptuously,

"Like, it isn't fun unless I'm making you miserable! Gawd, you're so selfish, Matrim Cauthon!" She spins around and runs away in tears, Vanin trailing her heels. Mat sighs and looks for Nalesean, but he's leaned against the wall smugly, flirting with underage sea folk girls.

"Hey, you no gonna work, you no gonna get paid!" The annoying woman's voice turns Mat's head and he scowls at one of the plastic employees. Teslyn, with her stupid-ass habit of leaving the T's off of simple words. Probably a side affect of the millions of plastic surgeries.

"What do you want me to do?" Mat asks groggily and she points towards a customer. Mat turns and his eyes widen as they fall upon the same little bitch that scuffed his sneakers. Mat thinks to be indignant, but he's just not feeling it. Olver snaps his fingers and Riselle picks him up and carries him over to Mat.

"Hey, Fabric Slave, cut me ten yards of this!" Olver throws a black and pink print reel of fabric towards him, and Mat barely catches it. Mat thinks to curse at the boy about Slavery and how his peeps were oppressed for…a damn long time, but once again, he's got no energy left.

"Yea, yea…" Mat walks over to a cutting board, but Nynaeve quickly stops talking to Aviendha and jumps to it, sprawling herself on the table,

"I'm using this, go find another one, jerk!" Mat glares at the whore, but sighs and turns around. He searches the store for another cutting board, but the only other one is directly in front of Tylin's office.

"Yo! My pimp cloak aint gonna cut itself, son!" Olver demands and Riselle snaps her fingers at Mat. Mat groans and kneels down, attempting to sneak over to the cutting board. He steps lightly and crosses under the knob of the door, but as he reaches up to place the large reel, the door swings open.

"Oh piglet covered in whip cream!" Tylin laughs out maliciously and Olver's eyes widen,

"Abort! Horny momma at six o'clock! I'm too young yet! Get ta stepp'n Rissizzle!" Olver jumps on Riselle's back and she sprints out of the store at groundbreaking speed. Mat attempts to recover to his feet from where the door hit him, but he's too late.

Tylin's inappropriate hands grab his ankles and he falls forwards, flat on his stomach and is dragged screaming and yelping towards the ominous office.

"Nalesean, help me! Vanin, you fat bastad!" Mat attempts to find anything to grasp onto, but the wooden floor is smooth. He finally surrenders and closes his eyes, awaiting the imminent doom.

Tylin man-handles Mat, tossing him onto the couch easily and he groans as he slumps backwards. She cackles sadistically as she kicks the door closed and reaches for the back of her dress. She growls impatiently and turns around,

"Unbutton me, sweet potato." She orders and Mat whimpers,

"Please, spare my life. If…if you want a _real _cutie, I can get you Talmanes! He's got a nice firm butt…I hear…"

"Nope." Tylin answers simply and Mat snivels as he pulls himself away from the couch and undoes each button with a wince.

The black dress finally falls to the floor and Mat's eyes bulge fearfully at seeing black and red lingerie covered with flames and skulls. He retreats backwards towards the door, but as he reaches for the knob, but a knife slams into the wood above his hand. Mat yelps and bounds backwards, spinning around,

"Where the hell were you keep'n it!"

"Does it matter?" Tylin snickers and motions for Mat to sit back down, "If you try to escape, I'll have to use it…and I don't want to, my little Popsicle."

"Why…" Mat sobs, beseeching The Creator, but he knows there is no escape, "This _has _to be illegal…"

"Put this on." Tylin says as she tosses a small spool at him, and Mat catches it in one hand. He looks down and frowns at the spool of pink ribbon,

"This can't be happening to me…" Mat stares at the spool pressed between his thumb and first finger and closes his eyes as Tylin lunges forwards like a possessed lioness.

Sometime later, a LONG and EXCRUCIATING time for Mat, the pain ceases and his eyes woozily flutter open. Mat's mouth is stuffed with pink ribbon which is also draped around his torso and also pinions his wrists behind his newly scarred back. His pelvis feels like mush and his legs are extremely numb.

Tylin lazily reaches over and pulls the gag from his mouth and Mat spits the terrible taste out his mouth,

"I've got nothin' left in me…" He mumbles and Tylin snickers and leans back,

"I'll take that as a—" Tylin's sentence is interrupted as the door swings open and Mat spins.

A young man bursts into the room and Mat attempts to cross his legs, but ends up flopping himself off the couch.

"Oh, Beslan, dear." Tylin smiles compassionately, not at all ashamed and Beslan nods his head, wearing a green and gold soccer uniform.

"Sup, ma."

"I'll be home shortly, dear." She answers and Mat struggles back to his feet and Beslan waves to him, but then looks back to his mom,

"Ah, no problemo, I'm hang'n with the guys after practice."

"How lovely." Tylin eyes twinkle and Mat's eyes widen,

"Dude, do you not care your mother is naked with a man!" Beslan looks over and shrugs,

"You seem 'down', why not?" Beslan winks and holds his hand like a gun, "Hope you didn't damage anything, she's fragile." Mat's stomach lurches in disgust,

"You freaky, disgraceful—"

"Hey, ma," Beslan interrupts Mat and Tylin looks up, ignoring Mat's repulsed scowl, "Could you pick me up some pizza bites!"

"Sure thing, dear."

"Yippy!" Beslan jumps into the air, clapping his hands together, and spins around, skipping out of the office. Mat shakes his head, wondering if there are any normal people in this entire backward town.

"Well, my little Latin pool boy, I must be off. Be early tomorrow." Tylin pulls her dress on and Mat struggles to his feet,

"You're just leaving me here!"

"Do you wanna come with me?" She asks expectantly and Mat gags,

"Hell naw!" Mat grabs his pants and does his best to make his way out of the office, tangled in the ribbon. The store is empty and dark and the sun is beginning its descent outside.

"I need a f'ckin drink."

Mat makes his way to the closest bar, the pink ribbon shoved in a rat infested gutter. He pushes open the door and inhales the sweet smell of alcohol and loose women. He begins towards an empty stool at the bar, but he catches a wave from the corner of his eye.

"Come sit with me, Mat." Birgitte waves at him from a vacant circular table and Mat smirks and walks over. She's the only woman here that he can deal with.

"Wutz up." He plops down and she frowns over her drink,

"You look haggard."

"Tylin makes me do…things." Mat answers hesitantly and Birgitte frowns,

"Sorry to hear dat. Can't just tell her 'hands off, ho'?"

"She's my boss and I have to keep this job for Rand to hook it up." Mat explains and Birgitte takes a sip,

"Dat sucks."

"You talk slang?" Mat asks confused and Birgitte nods her head,

"I grew up in tha projects."

"Word…" Mat smirks and reaches for her drink, "You mind?" Birgitte shakes her head and Mat takes a sip. His eyes bulge at tasting the jack and coke, but he painfully swallows to look like a man. She drinks it like water and Mat's never been more attracted to a woman in his life.

"I want to have your baby…" Mat mutters and Birgitte looks up,

"What?" Mat quickly clears his throat,

"Uh nothin…just wonder'n why you're not out 'man hatin' with da slutz." Birgitte groans and shakes her head angrily, her wonderful smile transforming into a malicious snarl,

"I got stuck with them cuz they 'supposedly' saved me. Yea, okay…geez, I'd love to cut off those 'red tresses.'"

Birgitte loses her furious scowl as she looks back at Mat,

"My bad, itz not you I'm mad at." She takes another sip and Mat licks his lips and leans forwards,

"Ya know, if it's just us two, we could uh—"

"Sorry." Birgitte says before he can finish and Mat's jaw drops,

"What? Why!"

"Sorry, boo, you just don't do it for me. Too…pretty." She explains regretfully and Mat sighs,

"I forgot you like them ugly bustas like Masema. Or one eyed Uno." Birgitte takes a deep breathe, twisting in her chair.

"Oh stop it, I'm gett'n…"

"Or even that ugly-ass hobbit Fain?" Mat asks furiously and Birgitte shuts her eyes and gasps through elation. Her breathing begins to return to normal and she fans herself with her hand,

"That's too much, _way too_ much…" She says dreamily and Mat scoffs,

"So what do we do?"

"Well me…I've gotta get going." Birgitte stands up and Mat frowns,

"Already? I thought we were—"

"Um, sorry, but I can't waste this feel'n!" She spins around and Mat drools, gazing upon her rounded, perfect ass. She turns back around and Mat almost chokes,

"Tell Tylin to stop, or I'll set her straight for ya." She waves and rushes off and Mat sighs and looks at the table surface as he would a pillow.

Sitting in the chair behind Mat is Noal with a devious smirk curving his lips.

"Sexual harassment case? I could get my badge back for sure…" He rubs his knobby palms together and snickers, "Noal, you sly devil, you. Hehehehe, Hahahaha, MUAHAHAHA!"


	7. The Chair Vibrates

Disclaimer - I do not own Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time or any materials relating to the Novels.

Mat struts down the sidewalk towards the fabric store, a determined smirk plastered to his face. This is the day he puts an end to it all, no more Tylin, no more Elayne, no more nuthin. He's too damn cool to be played!

"That's right!" Nalesean exclaims with feigned enthusiasm from beside him and Mat looks over angrily,

"If you're not goin' to act normal, you can go home." Nalesean shrugs and regains his apathetic disposition,

"Mat, you _made_ me come. I could be sleeping…"

"Yo, you do dis, I'll use ma connections wit Rand to snatch up all da Sea Folk bizzles ya ever wanted." A smile slowly spreads across Nalesean's face and Mat smirks and approaches the door. He rubs his hands together and thrusts the door open powerfully, rushing in with fists drawn.

"All you biatches best listen to—" Mat freezes in mid-sentence before his right foot touches the ground as two dice roll passed his foot.

"I'm play'n craps down here, biatch, ya mind?" Mat looks down at a young man sitting cross legged on the ground wearing a diaphanous white robe. A woman sits beside him, wearing the same and Mat licks his lips, wondering how the robe would look on the floor.

Mat shakes his impure thoughts away and looks towards the back of the store where Tylin stands, speaking to three women, all wearing black formal pants suits. Two black women, one short and baldheaded and a taller one, statuesque and probably used to digging trenches. The third is the most beautiful, possessing all the curves the others don't. Not to mention the long legs of a goddess.

"Who these people?" Mat asks suspiciously and Tylin laughs and waves towards him,

"Be a dear and introduce yourself, poppy seed." Mat grumbles and steps over the da'cavole's dice roll, a victorious seven, and walks to the three women, all towering over him cept the Mugsy Bogues wanna-be.

"Whatchu look'n at, white boy?" The short one demands furiously in the most ghetto-rific tone and Mat jumps away through terror. He just don't trust black chicks.

"I apologize, Ms…"

"You say my name, biatch, and I'm gon chop out'cho tongue!" Mat cringes behind Tylin for protection and the women all laugh.

Tylin coddles him with a pat on the head and smiles,

"Mat, these women represent 'The Empress's Gowns' and they just bought this location, so our stores are going to merge." Mat sniffles, trying to shake tears of freight from his eyes,

"I'm not working near tha—that beast!" Mat points his finger at the short one and her eyes erupt in a blaze of red.

"C'mere!" She barks and Mat squeaks and jumps away, trying to hide under a table, but she catches his leg, "Boy, I'm gon make ya my biatch!" She tightens her grip and yanks Mat away from underneath the table. Mat looks around desperately for Nalesean but the man pretends not to see his plight, flirting with two Sea Folk apprentices.

A knife flashes from the short woman's sleeve and Mat closes his eyes, praying that the blood loss kills him before she castrates him, but the store's door bursts open and everyone spins and looks. Mat's eyes widen as he sees Detective Noal stroll through the door. The man flashes a plastic badge and quickly stuffs it away,

"Tylin Quintara, you are under arrest! On charges of the statutory rape of a minor, of uhhh," The forgetful old man looks down at a pad of paper and nods, "Ah yes, your employee, Matrim Cauthon!" He announces loudly and Tylin's eyes bulge from their sockets. Nynaeve scratches the top of her head,

"Isn't the fact he's a minor implied in the word 'statutory'? Wait! He's not a minor!" Mat quickly wiggles away from his attacker and bobs his head quickly,

"Yes, I am! Only uhhh…seventeen! SeE how ShORt I aM, LOoK? Ah, mY vOIcE is chaNginG!" Mat quickly rushes away from the four women, and stands beside Noal.

"Wait, I saw him in a bar last night!" Elayne accuses and Noal turns to Mat and Mat freezes, but Birgitte comes to his defense,

"He never _purchased_ any alcohol."

"Good enough for me," Noal says and holds out his padded cuffs towards Tylin, "I'm sure you know how to use these. Put em on." Tylin brushes passed Noal and looks down at Mat with a look of longing. She snivels and wipes her eyes, making Mat feel more than a little guilty and he whispers,

"I promise I had nothing to do with this…"

"This is how much I'll miss you." Tylin opens her arms wide and Mat is touched by the size of her compassion, but her arms swing closed and her fists slam into the sides of his head, "You BASTARD! I won't miss you at all!" Tylin begins flailing her arms wildly, sending Mat to the ground cowering. He is pummeled maliciously for a number of minutes before Noal finally hauls Tylin off of him and pushes her towards the door handcuffed.

Mat coughs up blood as he stands to his feet and frowns towards Noal,

"Nothing bad will happen to her will it?" Noal sighs sullenly and looks towards the ground,

"I'm afraid young Matrim, she's probably gonna get the chair…"

"The chair!" Mat asks apprehensively and a massive grin spreads across Noal's old face,

"_MY _chair! Haha, you dumbass! Smooth skin, rock'n body, and you bitched about it! I'm out, son!" Noal cackles as he spins around and dances out the store, shaking his Viagra in his left hand and Mat is left standing confused. Elayne and Nynaeve stalk towards him, glaring daggers, but he stands his ground.

"The hell do you two want?" Mat demands as Nalesean walks up behind him, but looks towards the ground.

"You, like, just got us fired, you bitch!" Elayne growls and Mat shrugs indifferently and turns around. Nynaeve sniffs loudly and Elayne hauls her hand back to slap him. Mat spins around just in time to catch her flailing wrist and he glares at Nynaeve,

"You can either stop sniffing your stank skanky ass or you can go take a shower!" Tears burst into Nynaeve's eyes and she turns and runs under a table bawling, "And you!" Mat turns his glare to Elayne and her eyes widen, "All the shiat I've done fo yo trifl'n ass, and your chin is still in the air! Surprised yo neck aint broke yet! Now when you slap someone, you best do it right!"

"Excuuuse me?" She asks belligerently and Mat groans and pushes her wrist away,

"What did the five fingers say to tha face!"

"Huh?"

"SLAP!" Mat's hand flashes and Elayne bounds across the fabric store, crashing into a stand of spools and yarn. His hand stings but it felt good as hell.

Mat thinks to sit down and play craps with the half naked chick but the three new owners of the store stare at him viciously. He turns towards Birgitte to thank her for the help, but he overhears Elayne as she stands up with a massive red handprint across the side of her face.

"I aint stay'n here for the merger. I just hate big businesses taking over the little guys. Stealing jobs for the needy. Well, it's time to go to the Bank of Camaeyln and fire all the minorities and replace them with whites that I approve us. Let's go!" Elayne pulls Nynaeve behind her and Vanin trails after them, all exiting the store and marching away, pretending to be important.

"Oh, shiat, I've gotta warn Rand!" Mat looks around, searching for a phone and Nalesean turns to one of the young Sea folk girls, a member of his fan club,

"Hey, Talaan, can I borrow your cell-phone?" The young girl tilts her head confused,

"I'm Metarra…but close enough." She giggles as she hands Nalesean her small phone and he hands it to Mat.

Rand's eyes widen at the Bank of Camaelyn as Mat explains the situation and he closes his cell phone which has a jewel encrusted cover. He looks around his office frantically and Davram and Rhuarc look at him confused from their chairs.

"What's goin on, Sir? You look like Mashadar is coming to claim you." Rhuarc asks through concern and Rand grabs his poster of the sexilicious 'Stilled Leane' off his wall,

"It is! Elayne's using her star-trek beam-me-up thing, she'll be here soon. I've gotta get away!"

"You're blind to what a stone could see," Min says from the corner, wearing her bra on her head, "With its five eyes…"

"Shut the hell up and go get in the elevator!" Rand orders, holding all his desk supplies in his arms.

"We'll try to take care of things, Sir, but where will you go now?" Davram asks as Rand tosses his supplies into a black backpack,

"The Cubs need a new Manager right?"

"You? No!" Asmodean yells from the other corner of the room.

"Yea, Rand, that's suicide!" Davram insists and Rand sighs, slinging the backpack over his shoulder,

"I'd rather die than put Rand Jr. in that Trolloc lookin…ugh, I mean c'mon! Ever hear of a razor! G'damn!" Rand rushes out of the office and Davram and Rhuarc wave good-bye to their brave leader.

Rand pushes his way into the elevator and Daved Hanlon smirks towards him,

"Is Elayne here yet?"

"No, thank God." Rand answers gratefully and Daved sighs,

"I've never had a Queen."

"Elayne!" Rand shutters with a cringe, "You poor, poor man."


	8. The Erotic School Bus By Loial

A/N: MUUUUCH Thanks to ALL who have read and to ALL to who have reviewed. This is first Fic I posted here and I had a hell of a time doing it. Sniff

Anyways, if you're like me then you were feeling sorry for Mat at this point of the book and this is where I twisted the story so he can go out on top. I apologize to all the Mat/Tuon lovers out there, but I don't dig baldy…as you could probably tell.

Disclaimer - I do not own Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time or any materials relating to the Novels.

Mat watches as the two Barbie-doll plastic employees are berated for leaving their botox syringes lying around on the floor and he easily decides he aint about to stay. The three new scary look'n managers turn their vicious glares to him and he smiles and waves,

"Peace out, ya'll. When the time comes, I hope Callandor fries ya wit lightning like it did your countrymen…except Selucia." With that, he quickly spins and runs out of the store followed by Nalesean.

"Ah my throat!" Nalesean's lament sounds out from behind and Mat spins around apprehensively and frowns at seeing Nalesean's hands cupped around his throat.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothin'," Nalesean removes his hands and clears his throat, "I forgot to wear my comforter last night is all. Brrr."

Mat sighs and turns back around, only to see a massive bus hurtling towards him out of control. He shuts his eyes and holds his hands over his face as the tires squeal to a skiddddding stop. He slowly opens his eyes and exhales loudly at seeing the bus's nose two inches away from him.

"Ah, my ride is here." Birgitte says from behind and begins towards the red and black bus and Mat spins towards her, and his eyes widen at looking at the words on the sides.

"SAL-DEAN-FARM-GIRLS-TRAINING-SCHOOL. Ohhhh, baby!" Mat jumps into the air and clicks his heels together. He rushes to the folding door, following Birgitte within and Nalesean follows behind.

"Welcome, Mat." Loial says from the massive driver's seat with a massive grin that splits his face in half, "I decided to screw the book about Ta'veren. Illicit Escapades are funner!" The grin isn't from starting a new book, Erith seems to be located below him…working the peddles.

Mat turns to survey the main section of the bus, the seats and floor are all made of hundreds of bales of yellow hay, but not one person looks uncomfortable. Beautiful hawk nosed women entertaining men from all over, a tinker with a sword, a Shienaran General, couple of White Cloaks, and even Perrin and Gawyn.

"Hiya, Mat." A familiar voice calls out from a nearby seat and Mat turns around and smiles at the quite promiscuous Else Grinwell. Mat licks his lips and plops down beside her, wrapping his arm around her,

"Why are you here? You aren't Saldean." Mat asks and Else smiles seductively, leaning to Mat's ear and whispers,

"I'm horny and I'm a farm girl…isn't it better that I don't have the schnoz?" Once again, Mat has to agree but speaking of the massive schnoz…

"Eh, what happened to Fail, Perrin?" Mat asks as he maneuvers his hand towards an 'inappropriate place' up Else's leg.

"Who? Ahhh, her," Perrin snickers and leans back on his hay bale, "Yea, that conniving biatch wanted to act weird so I left her with the weirdest there is. Those damn Aiel. That f'ckin Rolan with an ass cheek fetish."

"Those Shaido Dogs!" Gaul pops out from underneath the scattered hay in the aisle, numerous shades of lipstick decorating his cheeks and neck. A second later, Berelain pops out with hay scattered through her disheveled hair but she's still by far the hottest on the bus…beside Birgitte.

"Gaul, you weren't finished showing me how a Stone Dog Beats the Buckler!" Berelain moans and a large smirk spreads across Gaul's face.

"Wait, wait," Mat begins and Gaul looks over impatiently, "I thought you were with uh, Bain…or Chiad…whichever one you were crush'n on." Gaul bursts into laughter and flexes his massive biceps,

"Once you've lain with Berelain, you _must _Remain!" He tackles the First of Mayene back down through the hay and they both disappear.

"I can sort of vouch for that…" Perrin whispers and Nalesean snickers,

"Wouldn't happen to be any Sea Folk down there would there…"

"Ah yea, all sorts. We have Galad to thank for most of em." Gawyn answers, pointing towards his brother who's covered in women. One of Galad's hands is able to maneuver out of the huddle and he holds his thumb up. Nalesean whistles and hops down through, crashing through the hay and Mat looks towards Gawyn.

"Whatever happened to Egwene? I thought she was your 'one and only'." Gawyn clears his throat looking more than a little embarrassed,

"Elaida wanted her so I uh…set her up to get captured."

"That was you!" Sheriam pops out from underneath the hay with a wide smile and Gawyn nods his head, "Nice work!" Sheriam high fives Gawyn before being pulled back under by an unseen force.

"Damn, how many peeps can fit down there!" Mat asks incredulously and Perrin smirks,

"Elyas is down there somewhere…a little inappropriate but he's with Dapple."

"A wolf!" Mat grabs his stomach and Perrin sighs and shrugs his shoulders,

"It was either that or Rina."

"Hmmmm, tapp'n da azz uv an Aes Sedai or a Wolf? Dat _is _a tuff call!" Mat laughs, but his laughter is cut short as the bus jerks into a screeeeeeeching halt. Mat is flung from his seat with Else on top and Birgitte beneath and he looks up as the door folds open. A powerful air precedes the new comers as loud boots stomp up the steps.

Logain's grizzled face appears and he looks around viciously and Jahar Narishma follows him up, wielding Callandor on his back,

"All ya'll biatches best Kneel and Submit to Logain Albar, the only one True Asha'man or you shall be…" Narishma clears his throat and looks around. Logain waves him off and smirks,

"Ah, don't worry bout it dawg, they already Kneel'n."


End file.
